


the spark before the dark (come closer)

by extasiswings



Series: every song i've ever loved [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Denial is not just a river, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Smithsonian PA Voice: Best Friends Since Childhood, Teenagers, This is totally platonic (except not at all), Underage Drinking, feelings what feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:50:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8102998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extasiswings/pseuds/extasiswings
Summary: "Kiss me."
"What?" Matt's voice cracks, strangled and high like a deflating balloon. 
"Why not? I'm not going to judge you and it won't be awkward. This is actually the perfect solution." 
[Or, Matt has a problem to which Darcy has a brilliant solution. Also, there are zero feelings involved. It's totally platonic. Really.]





	

_"I've never been kissed."_

The library is probably the quietest place in the whole house, although that's not saying too much. Music pulses on the other side of the door, but Darcy is glad for even a slight reprieve from the pounding bass, loud conversations, and drunken laughter, particularly since the party seems to be devolving into one big game of Spin the Bottle. She doesn't think anything of it—she's learned not to be surprised by the things that happen at cast parties—but she isn't enthused enough (or anywhere close to drunk enough) to want to participate, especially once she notices Matt slipping through the door at the end of the hall. He doesn't say anything at first when she settles down next to him on the floor behind the desk, but it doesn't take long for him to break the silence. 

"What?" It's not that she didn't hear him the first time, it's just that the concept isn't computing in her brain. 

Matt huffs and tips his head down, apparently very interested in the way the whiskey in his cup swirls when he tilts it from side to side. 

"I've never been kissed."

_Well, that makes zero sense._ "How is that even possible? All the girls in school are practically half in love with you. Probably some of the boys too if that's more your speed."

He rolls his eyes and shifts self-consciously, draining his cup before knocking his head back against the shelf. "They are not."

"You don't hear them in the locker room," she replies, wrinkling her nose. "Trust me, any one of them would be more than happy to be your first kiss. Be your first lots of things if we're being really honest."

"That's not love," he points out. "That's just...physical attraction. Chemicals."

Darcy snorts. "It was a figure of speech, punky. I didn't mean they're _actually_ in love with you."

_Although, some of them could be maybe. And for all his talk about chemicals, maybe he might want them to be._

There's a twist in her stomach at the thought that she blames on the alcohol, but she shifts closer to him anyway, resting her head on his shoulder. 

Matt doesn't say anything, just curls his arm around her waist in a sideways hug and leaves it there. 

"Do you, uh, do you want to be?" Darcy asks after the silence, broken up only by the filtered noise through the door, becomes too much. "Because, you know, if you don't that's cool too, totally valid option, but if you do I guess I'm a little confused why you're hiding in here when you could fix that pretty easily going back to the living room."

Matt blinks slowly behind his glasses, the way he does when she's been talking too fast and he's processing. After a moment, he shrugs. "I guess."

"Okay," she replies, dragging out the vowels as she shrugs out of her jacket, the stuffiness of the room just on the wrong side of comfortable. "Then what's wrong?"

"I—" He cuts himself off the instant after he starts, turning his face away from her. The tips of his ears are red. 

"...Matt?" Darcy shifts up higher, moving in front of him and sitting on his legs when he won't look at her. "Hey, come on. It can't be that bad. And if it is, there's always more alcohol."

Matt huffs a quiet laugh and shakes his head, but he does look at her, which, score. 

"I don't want to be bad at it," he confesses, his words so rushed that she almost asks him to repeat himself because she doesn't quite understand. When it clicks she blinks, then blinks again. 

"You..." Darcy can't help herself. She laughs. Matt flushes even more and moves to get up, but she stops him with a hand on his chest. "Wait, wait, no, don't be embarrassed, it's just...it's cute."

"Oh my _god_. Darcy." He either wants her to stop talking or is on the verge of laughter and Darcy's not 100% sure which, but if he had really wanted to leave he easily could have moved her and he didn't, so she'll take that as a good sign.

"No, just—look, okay, no one is good at it right off the bat. It takes practice."

"That only helps with the embarrassment if the person you're kissing is just as inexperienced," Matt replies, and yes, okay, his look is definitely trending towards _Please, God, let the ground open up and swallow me whole right now_.

Darcy snorts. "No. Okay, no, I don't accept that. Because I'm pretty sure plenty of people would be more than happy to teach you. Like...way more than happy."

He rolls his eyes and looks away from her again. He's still bright red. _Twitchy cat_ , she thinks. _Can't take a damn compliment_. 

And then she has a thought. 

"Kiss me."

"What?" Matt's voice cracks, strangled and high like a deflating balloon. It's adorable. "I—Darcy, you—you can't be serious."

"Nah, dude, I'm _totally_ serious. Kiss me."

"Darcy. We can't just—"

"Why not?" Darcy shrugs. "I'm not going to judge you and it won't be awkward. This is actually the perfect solution."

"This is the most ridiculous—"

Darcy kisses him before she can talk herself (or him) out of it. He freezes for the briefest of moments, but finally he begins to move his lips against hers. 

He's not a bad kisser, she notes. A little stiff, a little tentative, but definitely not bad. Doesn't know where to put his hands though—they hover awkwardly in the air next to her waist at first, then her hips, then back to her waist as if he can't decide, but he never makes contact. It's kind of sweet (in a good way), especially considering how the guys (and girls on occasion) she usually kisses are. 

"You can touch me, you know," she says when she pulls back. He makes a sound like a shocked cat and she laughs, taking his hands and setting them on her waist. "See? Totally innocent. Nowhere you haven't touched me like a thousand times before." 

Matt coughs, his thumbs tracing slow circles on her lower ribs. Her breath catches and goosebumps rise on her skin— _ticklish_ , she thinks. _That's all that is_. 

"Not like this," he points out. 

"It's not like I'm planning on showing you the finer points of second base or anything," Darcy teases, laughing when he chokes on air and ends up coughing. "Really, this is fine." 

He's smiling when she leans in to kiss him again, but she pauses when a strange look flickers over his face. Reaching up to push his hair off his forehead, she settles her hand on his cheek. 

"You okay?" She asks. "If you're uncomfortable I won't—sorry, I should have asked."

Matt gets even redder if possible, but when she shifts to get up his hands tighten on her waist to hold her in place. 

"It's okay," he says quickly. "I'm not uncomfortable, just...processing." 

He tips his head to the side, the way he does when he's listening for something, and he must hear whatever it is because he leans closer. He stops before he actually kisses her, though he's close enough that he could, close enough that she can see all too clearly the way his throat works when he swallows. 

"Can I, um..."

"Try again?" Darcy fills in. "Course you can. What are friends for?" 

Matt huffs a laugh and shakes his head, but he closes the distance between them instead of snarking back at her so she takes it as a win. 

It's less awkward the second time around. He's leading rather than her, experimenting with pressure and time in a way that should feel scientific but instead makes her pulse pick up. When his tongue makes a tentative pass over her lower lip, a silent question, she hums an acquiescence. He tastes like whiskey, honeyed smoke on her tongue, and she wonders if it's the same for him with his senses or if he's getting much more. 

_What must that be like?_ Taste, touch, smell, hearing, all magnified—she's thought about it before, but certainly not in this context. When his tongue slides along hers does he hear the way her pulse races? Feel how her temperature spikes (although that could just be her imagination) alcohol and the headiness of kissing him sending heat spiraling through her blood? She's so caught up that she doesn't notice he's slid a hand into her hair until she starts to pull back and his fingers catch and tug accidentally. 

The sound that escapes her is more surprise than anything else, but Matt untangles his hand as quickly as he can without tugging further. 

"I'm—" Darcy swallows his apology with another kiss, sliding her own fingers through his hair to pull his mouth back to hers. She means to keep it short, but it drags on, electricity sparking under her skin when he curls a hand around the back of her neck and licks into her mouth, the pressure almost on the edge of bruising. She feels dizzy, too hot, and it shouldn't be possible. No one should be able to make her feel like this with just a few kisses, without even having touched her anywhere that couldn't be considered mostly innocent. Matt certainly shouldn't, not his first time, but apparently he's a fast learner, holy shit. 

His hand on her waist slides down to her hip and squeezes at the same time his teeth catch her lip and she breaks the kiss to stifle a moan. Fuck. Okay. That's probably enough. Clearly it's been too long since she's been kissed well if she can't get enough of her best friend's lips. 

_This is Matt. Get yourself together, Lewis._

Darcy laughs at the thought, breathless from the kisses and the ridiculousness of the situation. Untangling her fingers from Matt's hair, she settles her hands on his shoulders. 

"Was that—um—was that okay?" His voice is all sandpaper and shadow in a way that doesn't clear when he coughs and it dances over her skin like static. 

(She's warm and liquid and her nerve endings are sparking, her brain whispering to lean in again. Her lipstick is smeared across his mouth and something in her curls up and purrs at the image, at the thought of what it would look like if they went back to the party right now, like this)

"Darcy?"

She flushes like she's been caught and reels her train of thought back to somewhere that's not the byproduct of a hormone-induced haze, taking the time to reach up and wipe away the lipstick on his mouth before she grins. 

"Gold star, Matty." 

His ears go red again and he ducks his head, although there's a pleased smile flickering around the edges of his lips. 

"Come on, really."

"I'm serious," she replies. "Gold star, A for effort, whatever floats your boat. Careful with the teeth, not everyone is going to be a fan, but yeah no, solid moves there, Murdock."

He laughs and yeah, that's definitely a smile. A very pleased with himself smile. "Careful with teeth, got it. Any other tips?"

Darcy hums thoughtfully. "Um, I guess just...listen to your partner. Even if they don't say anything you can usually tell if someone's not into something if you're paying attention. So listen. Or if you're not sure, ask. Lot of guys seem to think that's weird or kills the mood or whatever, but I promise it doesn't."

"Listen, huh?" Matt's smile widens into a grin. "Somehow I think I can manage that."

She considers that, then snorts and shoves his shoulder. "You _loser_ , oh my god. You were totally using your powers, weren't you?"

"It's not like I can turn them off." There's a wickedness to the twist of his lips when he responds, to the satisfaction written all over his face, that kind of really makes her want to kiss him again. Or possibly smack him. Or both. 

"Why am I friends with you again?" Darcy muses aloud.

"I don't know," he replies. "I think it might be because I'm apparently a really good kisser."

"Your sass is not appreciated," she shoots back. "Nor is it attractive."

"See, I'm pretty sure you're lying about that, but—" Matt jumps when she digs her fingers into his sides to tickle him, squirming to get away but laughing all the while. "Seriously? Tickling? Who's the loser now?"

"Still you, Murdock. Still you."

And just like that, Darcy is proven right. Nothing is awkward, they're completely normal—well, as normal as they ever are—and it's not something that ever has to come up again. Kissing him was the perfect solution. Just one friend helping another.

(If she flushes hot when the memory sneaks into her thoughts even weeks later, if she finds herself comparing other kisses to Matt's for the next year, it's not because it was Matt, it's just because it was a really good kiss. At least, that's what Darcy tells herself at any rate)

(If her stomach twists the first time she sees him with lipstick on his mouth that isn't hers, well, that doesn't mean anything either)

**Author's Note:**

> I credit myself with sending shu the text post that sparked the first bit of this series, and then I wrote some bits of this 'verse from when they're in law school and then went backwards to some high school stuff (like the above) and, well, I thought it wasn't fair to keep it to myself (aka these kitties are so ridiculous and they drive me up the wall, please join me in my pain). Thanks to shu for being kind enough to let me play in her sandbox :)
> 
> Title from "Closer" by Tegan and Sara


End file.
